


Hospital Men

by CloudedCreation



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Books Are Awesome, Gen, Strange Men And The Passing Of Powers, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-21
Updated: 2013-04-21
Packaged: 2017-12-09 03:26:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/769437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloudedCreation/pseuds/CloudedCreation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are men, everywhere, when Stiles first arrives to the hospital. He’s five, and while he’s young he’s not all that naïve. Men aren’t supposed to be sitting on the ceiling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hospital Men

There are men, everywhere, when Stiles first arrives to the hospital. He’s five, and while he’s young he’s not all that naïve. Men aren’t supposed to be sitting on the ceiling. Or on the walls, their legs slipping through the white paint if they aren’t careful.

Men aren’t supposed to have skin that is that grey, either.

He tries not to stare at them as he and his dad walks by – mom always say that It’s rude to stare, after all – but it’s hard not to. One with a thick mustache makes a funny face and Stiles has to shove his fist inside his mouth not to laugh.

He looks up at his dad, hopes he didn’t notice, because dad hasn’t been all that approving of Stiles laughing since mom went away to stay at the hospital, but finds that he hasn’t noticed Stiles’ slipup. He’s not looking at the man he just walked through, either, though, so maybe he’s just really not attentive at the moment.

Which, weird. Stiles’ dad’s always aware of everything.

They turn at the corner, stopping to talk to a nurse that’s not Scott’s mother for a minute, and Stiles’ know that they are talking about _important things_ , but he can’t pay attention to that when there are men appearing through the floor.

_Who are you_ , he thinks, trying to push the thought to the man closest to him. _What are you?_

He gets a smile, teeth sharp and glistening in the artificial light that somehow both catches on his clothing and goes straight through. It looks creepy, like he’s trying too hard, but Stiles smiles back because that’s what you’re supposed to do and his mother always knows when he doesn’t.

He doesn’t get an answer, though, and soon enough his dad is tugging him along down the corridor and into a small room where Stiles finds his mother, a tired grin on her face as machines beep in a cacophony all around her.

Stiles escapes his father’s grasp, limbs smooth in their movements for once, and runs to her side. There’s a mint green chair next to the bed and he climbs up in it, sits on his knees as he leans over the side of the bed, reaching out to hug as much of his mother as he’s able.

“Hello mom,” he says, more subdued than usual. She doesn’t look right, her skin too pale with glaring purple beneath her eyes.

“My little man,” she greets him, and when she fists her hand he meets it with his.

She’s weaker than normal, and Stiles doesn’t really know what to do with that.

Stiles’ dad sits down on the chair placed on the other side of the bed, taking mom’s other hand in his, kissing it gently on the knuckles. They do that, sometimes, saying it helps the romance stay alive, whatever that means.

“So,” Stiles’ mom says, “how’s school?” And Stiles is off, talking a mile a minute about Scott and Lydia and the stars he got on his spelling exam. He’s good with words, his teacher likes to say, if only he could sit down and concentrate like that more often.

Stiles is not very good at concentrating.

“Hey, mom?” He enquires at one point, his dad not in the room for a while. “Why are there men in the ceiling?”

He asks his mom instead of his dad because she always reads him the best bedtime stories, the ones with monsters and fairies and magic. He knows she’ll believe him, even though most people wouldn’t.

She’s cool like that.

“Oh, so that’s where they’ve gone.” She says quietly, and Stiles tilts his head in confusion. She just smiles – a little sadly, the corners of her mouth not matching her eyes – and shakes her head in answer. “It’s nothing, honey, mom just misses some of her friends.”

He doesn’t ask again, because he doesn’t like making his mom sad.

It’s not until they’re just about to go that she speaks again, having just released him from a tight hug, her hands resting atop his head.

“Stiles, do you remember that book I showed you last year, the one with the ink drawings that you wasn’t supposed to read just yet?” She asks as she pets his hair, her eyes distant, not really there.

“I remember, mom.” He whispers back, afraid to break the almost silence.

Her hands move to cup his cheeks, thumbs stroking the skin just on the outside of his eyes, still not looking. “Well, it’s time for you to read it now.” She places a kiss on his forehead, softly and slightly damp, and it seems to linger for a long time after he and his dad finally leaves, an imprint on his skin.

The hospital calls them three hours later, as Stiles had known they would even before he got home.

The men didn’t stay at the hospital.

 

**Author's Note:**

> For everyone using this site to post/read/enjoy fanworks, please go and bid on some amazing authors over at the ao3 fundraiser auction on tumblr! There are tons of fandoms and athors to choose from, all of them willing to write a story based on your ideas to keep this site running, so take advantage.  
> [Here's](http://ao3auction.tumblr.com/cloudedcreation) a link to my profile on the page if you want me to write a story for you :)


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